


like clockwork

by janigkale



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Alive Tadashi, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Gen, Hamada bros, Platonic Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 01:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15086156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janigkale/pseuds/janigkale
Summary: There have been zeroes on his shoulder for as long as Hiro can remember. He doesn't really care about them at all, not when there's so many other things in the world to discover. But maybe he's just missing what he already has.





	like clockwork

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!

The black numbers on his right shoulder read zeroes, all of them, ever since he can remember. Hiro’s managed to hide them under layers of hoodies and t-shirts, because even with him being a genius, he still has no clue why. Aunt Cass’ has zeroes too, but the one time he had asked her about it, maybe when he was eight or nine, her eyes had gotten glassy and wide. It's on her left elbow.

Tadashi.

Well, Tadashi must logically have one, even if there is the slightest possibility that he doesn't. Those exist, but he's never brought up the subject with Tadashi, and his brother hasn't even inquired, even if he knows perfectly well Tadashi has seen it.

 

_They're eight and twelve, and Hiro’s got oil grease and sweat on his T-shirt, and, unsurprisingly enough, Tadashi does too. It's a hot summer day, sticky like Aunt Cass’ strawberry doughnuts, and when they trudge back up to the apartment, they throw their shirts in the closet. Hiro falls asleep, right there on their rug, Tadashi warm next to him._

_When he wakes up, Tadashi’s almond eyes are on his right shoulder, then instantly flicker back to him, and he gives him a wide, lopsided grin._

_He never brings it up._

 

Hiro still doesn't know what to make of it. It's like some puzzle that he has seventy five percent of, the rest lost in his and Tadashi’s room somewhere. Oh, and also, it's so cryptic that he can't figure it out, at all. Aunt Cass doesn't bring it up either, but he caught her smiling, fond and warm at it, once. It had been drizzling outside, like the tear tracks of the clouds, and he’d come downstairs with his shirt sleeves rolled up from working on a new bot.

She'd looked, smiled, and said nothing.

Ugh. Why did people have to be so annoyingly sentimental and silent? What was the big deal with soulmates anyway? Hiro's fairly sure that he could dawdle through the rest of life without one and he'd be totally, completely fine. He'd see people on the sidewalk, hands intertwined in some eternal dance, and never fathom the same happening to him. He's got his brain, his laptop, and Tadashi and Aunt Cass.

What did it freaking matter anyway?

He's made up his mind that his doesn't matter, and he's ninety two percent sure Tadashi doesn't even have one.

So it _doesn't_ matter.

Right?

The first time he goes bot fighting, Tadashi finds him slumped in an alley, and explodes when they finally get up to their bedroom. Well, more like Tadashi mutters under his breath in Japanese, and hoists Hiro, because his ribs ache, and he’s pretty sure his ankle is sprained.

He lets Tadashi scold him, words worried and not unkind, while he manages to rein in a curse word when the peroxide bleeds in. Hiro lets his head loll against the adjacent wall of the bathtub, trying to shut his eyes and move into a peaceful blankness. He's jolted awake as Tadashi presses a compress to a violet bruise on his leg. Tadashi mutters, quiet, almost biting, “You can't just go off and get yourself killed, what about your-”

His eyes widen, the slightest bit.

And the whole world seems to be unbelievably clear and crisp, and Hiro is paying attention.

 _Soulmate_.

But Hiro is tired of listening about soulmates and happily-ever afters, even through it's the first time Tadashi has ever mentioned the topic. His body feels like a dull lead weight, pulling him down into darkness, but he blinks at Tadashi, sarcastically mutters back, “As if you'd know.”

Tadashi stops pressing the compress, and Hiro notes his eyes, always so expressive, always a traitor to what he's feeling, going completely empty. They're so pained that Hiro loses his breath. His older brother, kneeling next to the bathtub, on the cold tile, is completely silent for a minute, and Hiro’s silently begging him to say something, please, anything-

And Tadashi pulls down his Star Trek T-Shirt, just the left shoulder, and Hiro can't breathe for a second.

It's a copy. A freaking copy.

A line of ebony zeroes.

Tadashi says, so soft in the dimly lit bathroom, “Three years, five months, fifteen days, nine hours, five minutes, and twelve seconds.”

Hiro stares at it for what seems like hundreds of years, but it's only seconds later when Tadashi pulls it back up, and wraps up his ankle.

Hiro goes to bed that night, his heart in his throat, his head full of thousands of questions, but the image is forever burned in his head.

He wakes up the next morning, with the numbers in his mind, and counts up, his mind frantically trying to piece together what day it was, why the hell Tadashi would tell him. And then, he figures it out, and it doesn't strike him for a single second, because he’d always forget. Even on the day of.

May twelfth.

May _fucking_ twelfth.

AKA his birthday. 

Which meant Tadashi had known all this time and never said _anything_.

He's sitting there so long, trying to find moments when he'd sensed something, observed something, but it all comes back to that summer day, late in July, happiness bubbling in his stomach. What did this mean?

What had it ever meant?

Tadashi’s at SFIT for practically the entire day, and Hiro sits at his computer, trying to think of his code, or the comments for it, or ways to improve his bot, but he can't. His phone sits next to him, and when he sighs and bangs his head against the desk in frustration, it rings _Sailor Moon_. He looks at it, groans, because he'd made that his ringtone for Tadashi so long ago that it's practically entrenched in his brain.

Hiro stares at it.

Then he continues to bang his head against the desk.

When Tadashi comes home, late, rubbing his eyes, his cap backwards on his head, Hiro swivels his computer chair and stares. Tadashi makes it a point not to look at him, and Hiro sighs, turns off his computer. Opening the Japanese silk screen that separated their beds, he plops himself next to his older brother.

Hiro curls up, placing his knees beneath him, says casually, “Did you know only five percent of all soulmates are familial?” He chances a look at Tadashi, whose eyes are wide, but then shift to a knowing look. Hiro’s pretending that he didn't spend the entire afternoon researching the topic, because his brother is a freaking bonehead.

“You could have just told me a long time ago, ‘Dashi,” he murmurs, settling his head next to his headboard. Tadashi is silent next to him, but constant and warm. He laughs suddenly, and Hiro glances at him, confused.

“ _I_ didn't even know if it was real, Hiro.” He sighs. “I mean, when I first saw you- it- my shoulder burned and - Aunt Cass knew. But I wasn't ever sure. I didn't want to use it against you, or something like that. I-” Tadashi pauses, turning over to rest a gentle hand on Hiro’s knee.

“Most soulmates are romantic. It's just so rare for this happen, and it made no sense- five percent and we were chosen.”

Hiro leans into him a little, wonders if this was behind all his thoughts about soulmates, how they weren't essential, or even particularly useful. He winces at the thought, and Tadashi’s eyes soften. “I don't regret it, Hiro. I never did.” And even though Hiro’s throat is full with sudden emotion, and he can't talk, it's true for him as well. He can't- _won't_ imagine life without Tadashi, because it seems so surreal that it's impossible. He slides down, curls himself in the negative space where his brother isn't.

Tadashi nestles his head in his hair and smells like machine oil and mint. It's home, and Hiro falls asleep in a minute.

 

 

  
Hiro doesn't talk to Tadashi for a week after the fire.

His idiot, knucklehead brother who is supposed to be brilliant and logical, tried to throw himself in a freaking fire. The _only_ freaking reason he didn't is because Hiro screamed, held onto to him for dear life until they were knocked back into the concrete by the tendrils of fire. Hiro's semester doesn't start till the summer, and Tadashi is constantly there anyway, which is fine to him. He can't handle seeing his brother, his brother who tried to leave him alone, and _fuck,_  he shouldn't be so dependent.

He shouldn’t, but he is, and he's pissed.

Oh, also? His microbots and his transmitter are gone. Great.

When he heads down to the café one day, Aunt Cass gives him jelly doughnuts, and Hiro intends to trudge right back up, until she pulls him away. “You're not going anywhere, mister.” He looks, tired, angry, in her fierce emerald eyes, and accepts it. He sighs, and she crosses her arms.

“Tadashi Hamada might be crazy for trying to think he could go in a fire and _survive_ , but he did it to save someone, Hiro.” Her voice is honest, hard on the outside, soft and pliable on the inside. Hiro doesn't look at her, because it was true- but in his mind, he only saw his brother trying to peel his fingers away to leave him on the outskirts.

Aunt Cass’ voice softens, and she sits across from him, takes his wrist, says, “You’re his whole world, Hiro, and he's barely getting through. It doesn't solve everything, I know, but still…”

She doesn't say it, but Hiro hears it loud and clear. He closes his eyes, stays silent, and heads up to his room. Inexplicably, he trips on the second to last step, curses colorfully, until a familiar tranquil voice stops him. “You have a minor abrasion.”

Hiro looks up, and Baymax is at the top of the staircase.

Baymax scans him again, notes completely placidly, “You seem to have increased epinephrine and catecholamine levels. This indicates anger.” The robot cocks his head at Hiro, who has struggled to get up, and he responds, “ It's my stupid-ass brother's fault, probably.”

Baymax has placed an antibacterial spray on his arm, before noting, quietly. “Tadashi is not naturally aggressive and seems to have a positive demeanor.”

Hiro rolls his eyes, strolling back to his room, and flopping on his bed. Baymax hovers over him for a good fifteen minutes or so, before waddling over to his desk.

After a long while, he says, “Your tiny robot appears to be moving.”

Then he promptly walks out the bedroom door. Of course, Hiro’s half asleep, face smashed in the pillow, so he doesn't notice.

It's only when he hears Tadashi’s loud, “ _What the hell?_ ” that he’s jolted back awake, because his brother swears once in a blue moon. He finds Baymax across the street from the café and his brother chasing after him, messenger bag in hand.

Hiro thinks for a second. Then he runs after them.

 

After they encounter the warehouse, and the Kabuki man with the microbots who tries to murder them, and they finally manage to get Baymax in his charging cell, Hiro flops next to Tadashi on the floor. His chest hurts, and the breath is all gone in a wisp, but for some stupid reason, he laughs. Which makes no sense, apparently, because Tadashi is staring at him like Mochi’s on his head or something. Hiro stops, suddenly, and turns away.

“He's got your microbots, Hiro.” Tadashi’s voice says, and Hiro turns to him, intrigued, settling his elbow underneath his head. It clicks suddenly. “You think- the fire?”

His shoulder burns at the memory, but Tadashi nods, grim. Hiro bites his lip, then reasons, “Then it wasn't an accident. And someone’s taken my microbots and probably using them for all the wrong reasons. We have to find them!”

He pushes himself off the floor, but Tadashi pushes him back down, and his voice is indignant, sharp. “What the hell, Hiro? You might get yourself killed! That man tried to murder us!” Hiro pulls away sharply, as thoughts of the fire thunder into his mind, and he can almost smell the soot, feel the ash underneath his fingernails.

“What about _you_ , Tadashi?” He retorts, and his brother’s eyes widen, suddenly realizing where this is all going. They sit there in silence, for maybe five minutes, trying pointedly not to start another conversation. Tadashi sighs, and his shoulders dip down.

“Hiro, I’m not going to leave you alone. The fire- God, Hiro, I can’t even- " Tadashi's struggling, stuttering with his words - "and I’m-” his brother’s eyes are filling with _tears_? “I never wanted to leave you alone, Hiro.”

Hiro breathes. One, two.

Then he slips into Tadashi’s arms, like a puzzle piece, and pretends his eyes aren't stinging too. He pretends that Tadashi’s not breathing hard, fast, trembling, like he's crying, because they're both too old. He's whispering, “You stupid, _stupid,_ fucking idiot,” and Tadashi’s whispering broken _I'm sorrys_ in his hair like an old radio. They sit on the bedroom floor, arms wrapped around each other, never letting go for an instant.

When Hiro finally scrubs away at his sticky, teary cheeks, he whispers, nearly hopeful, “Guess we’re in this together, then?” Tadashi laughs, broken and watery and happy all in one, and brushes a kiss on Hiro’s forehead.

“Not much of a choice, Hiro.”

Hiro turns, and presses his right shoulder to Tadashi’s left, feeling the smallest zing between them, like a connection, like a galaxy that extends forever. He breathes, a bucket of fresh air coming in through his lungs, rubs his nose, and laughs shakily. The zeroes are cool on his shoulder and rain has just started to fall, splattering their window.

Three years, five months, fifteen days, nine hours, five minutes, and twelve seconds.

That was how long Tadashi said it had taken.

But for him, the zeroes had always been there, from the start.

Like they always would be.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, in my headcanon, Tadashi's only four years older than Hiro, which would make him eighteen, which is the minimum age he could be. Bc he had such a big lab in the movie, I headcanon him as being accepted to SFIT at sixteen, because I'm pretty sure that Tadashi was pretty brilliant too, if he could go somewhere like SFIT. But Hiro and Tadashi are both just adorkable nerds. Also, thank you again for reading!


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